Responsibility
by crazytook
Summary: Chekov dies on the Enterprise. Kirk has to deal with the fact that while there may be no such thing as a no win situation, he can't protect everybody. Primarily a Kirk,Spock, Bones Friendship story. no slash. Rated for Language. new chap up!
1. Captains and Alcohol

-1A/N: OK, so this is my first fic, and I'm a little unsure if all the voices worked like I want them to. Please, please review, because I am actually planning on correcting stuff based on response for this and future chapters. Also, as is no secret, I killed Chekov. Sorry. I might end up bringing him back, but I felt if just worked for the story. I didn't want to just kill a random Ensign because it just didn't seem personal enough. But please, enjoy the story! And Review!!!

Disclaimer:…I don't own it. If I did, they'd be filming the sequel already. There will be no rest for the cast or crew of Star Trek!!!

Bones watched as Kirk chugged down yet another shot of vodka. This was the 10th shot in the span of an hour, and it was starting to get ridiculous. Bones knew it couldn't help that Jim had barely eaten in the last few days, ever since Ensign Pavel Chekov had died. Much more of this, and Bones was going to start worrying about alcohol poisoning.

"I think that's enough, Jim." Bones said.

"Yeah..." He said as he poured more vodka into his shot glass, and raised the glass up to his lips. Bones grabbed the drink before he could actually pour any of the liquid into his mouth, however.

"Hey!" Jim said.

"I said it's probably enough. We should get you to bed." Bones said in the most compassionate but authoritative voice he could, which he was sure somehow still managed to just come out grumpy. The kid did not look good, and if he didn't keep a watchful eye-scratch that, even if he did keep a watchful eye- Jim was going to do something-or at least attempt something- permanently damaging to his health.

Jim seemed to think for a second about Bones' suggestion of sleep. And having seemed to come to some fool conclusion, he replied, "You're going to have to order me. I used to always have to order him, we all did. Kid worked too damn hard, trying to prove himself. He didn't need to prove himself. He was already the damn whiz kid. We all knew it...What the hell? And he drank vodka too. And tonight's about his memory. So, I am going to sit here. And I am going to keep drinking vodka. And I-" Jim said with a scheming smirk, "am going to have to be ordered to bed." Jim declared with slurred words, sloppily pounding the shot glass back on the table.

Bones sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. not that he thought it would, but hell, this was already hard on him. It was almost ironic, though, Bones thought, as the knowledge seeped from his subconscious to his consciousness that all that was really holding him together was the fact that he knew he had to hold Jim together. As soon as Jim was fine, Bones knew he'd feel it. He'd let his mind replay and replay and replay some more. Over, and over, and over again the visual of Chekov lying on his table, coding, dying, screaming. Kid had to go screaming, didn't he? Couldn't have gone quietly? Couldn't have refrained from whispering some words in Russian that Uhura later translated as "The Lewcarolian Proof from the book" Which was some mathematical proof that was so elegant, math geeks decided it was in some book in Heaven where all the most elegant proofs were written. Sulu later claimed that specific proof (as apparently, there were others "from the book") held some significance and that it was Chekov's favorite equation, or some allusion to some proof, or what the hell ever. Sulu claimed it was something comforting to Chekov, and that he'd meant it as a thank you, a good bye, and an "I'll be OK". Bones doubted it. It was just random firings of the brain, and as a Doctor, he really couldn't bring himself to believe it, no matter what he told Jim.

…Jim.

Bones shook his head. He had a captain to keep together. A damn child Captain, a damned fool child captain, but a captain. And more importantly a friend.

"Come on, Jim. As CMO, I order you to go to bed." Bones said.

"See, that's more like it." Jim replied, smirking, pouring another shot of vodka, drinking it, and attempted to get up, hopefully to get himself to bed. Of course, Bones would never know Jim Kirk's real intentions, because Jim proceeded to engage in a collision course with the floor. Fortunately, Bones managed to intercept Jim before he could make contact.

"Come on, let's go." Bones said, as he slung Jim's arm over his shoulder, wrapping his other arm around his waist, guiding him back to his quarters...and thought better of it. He led Jim away from the mess hall into the sick bay. He wanted to check for alcohol poisoning. There was a low chance of it, but Bones knew he wasn't getting any sleep tonight, and hell, the kid kept his mind off...well...off of the other kid. The dead kid. The kid he couldn't save. Damn kids. Damn fool kids, Bones thought, as he led Jim to the sickbay.

TBC…

If your curious: Lewcarolian is my not so subtle nod to the fact that Lewis Carroll was also a mathematician, so I named a future mathematical proof after him. And the "Proofs from the Book" thing comes from a famous mathematician, Ardesh, who would say that to his students/colleagues when they came up with a particularly elegant proof.

Review Please!!!


	2. Who Is the Bigger Idiot?

-1**A/n: Thank you everyone so much for all the support for the last chapter! I really appreciated all of the reviews. So, here is the new chap! Um…what specifically happened to Chekov will get revealed, but it's one of those going to happen piece by piece things, as my focus really is everyone's reaction to his death kind of thing. But worry not! You shall get the full picture eventually! OK, on with the show! And please, as always, read and review! Let me know if things seem off or in cohesive or whatever to you! Thanks guys! Enjoy!!!**

**Chapter 2**

**The next morning, Bones awoke on a chair with his head laying on the edge of a biobed. Trying to recall the previous night's events, wondering who was injured so badly he'd fallen asleep at their bedside. He looked up and experienced a moment of panic when he saw Jim lying there. ...Jim! ...And then he saw the machine he'd hooked up to the kid. Dextrose. Jim had just been drinking last night. Right. He was fine. Damn if he wasn't going to give him a heart attack. Bones did a cursory scan of the Captain, putting his paranoia to rest by re-assuring himself yet again that Jim didn't come anywhere near alcohol poisoning. Just as he completed the scan and was about to wake him up, Spock walked in.**

**"Spock? What are you doing here?" Bones asked.**

**"I have come to check on the Captain's current status." Spock said. Bones noticed there was a hint of exhaustion barely evident on his features. But barely or no, Bones did notice it, and the fact that it showed at all made Bones think that Spock must be barely standing. He must not have slept much, if at all, the previous night.**

**"Is that Vulcan speak for you were worried about him?" Bones asked mostly under his breath, but with every intention of Spock hearing him with those pointy ears of his. To hell with not calling the Vulcan out. Bones saw Spock's eye twitch a bit at the comment before he replied. 'Emotions are illogical, my ass.' Bones thought.**

**"I am merely inquiring if the Captain is in fit condition to resume his post, as past experience has shown that he is likely to take recent events personally and-as you might say- do something stupid." Spock replied.**

**Bones sighed. Yeah, he didn't buy it for a second, but neither did anyone else on the ship, really, but Bones decided to adjust his previous attitude, because there really was still no point in trying to get Spock to admit it. He's been through enough, he might as well at least let him keep his facade. After all, it did seem to be how he coped, however ineffective Bones thought THAT was.**

**"He'll be up for duty in about an hour, Spock." Bones replied.**

**"Will he be-"**

**"It's nothing he shouldn't be able to handle. Just." Bones paused, "Spock. Keep an eye on him? Yeah?" Bones asked. And if it came out a little bit like pleading, well he was OK with that. ... Just as long as it never got around.**

**Spock nodded, and made his way back to the bridge. But, a bad feeling in the pit of his gut made Bones call after him.**

**"Spock."**

**"Yes, Doctor?"**

**"Are-are you OK?" The words practically tumbled out of his mouth. He'd asked the question before he really even knew what he was asking. Because, the truth of it all was, Bones never could truly convince himself that this whole logic thing of Spock's was a good idea in situations like these.**

**"Excuse me? I..." And damn it but Bones would swear to Heaven and back that the Vulcan was flustered. Spock, however quickly, and to the untrained eye, imperceptibly, regained his composure and asked, "Is my medical well being in question?"**

**"No, no, nothing like that, just...how do you feel?" Bones decided he'd dived off the deep end anyways, might as well go with it. The forces of gravity were futile to fight sometimes. Even if said forces were metaphorical.**

**"The question is irrelevant, Doctor." Spock answered. Of course he'd say that. Bones found himself losing whatever little patience he ever had slip away.**

**"Would you just answer the damn question, Spock? And don't give me any of this Vulcan logic bullshit. How do you feel?" Bones insisted. He was too exhausted to play this game with the Vulcan. He knew Spock must not have slept, he knew he must be effected in some way by Chekov's untimely death, and he knew that he hadn't done a damn thing to deal with it, because he was probably to busy convincing himself he wasn't feeling it at all. Even though he must know full **

**well he was. The blasted Vulcan could be so stubborn sometimes, it practically drove Bones to drink.**

**"I feel," If Spock had been fully human, he would've spat the word, but as it was, he simply laced it with a heavy dose of sarcasm and condescension, "Able to do my duty, Doctor and fulfill my obligations and duties as a First Officer, a Science Officer, and if it is required of me, an Acting Captain, and that is all that is of consequence to you. Should I expect the Captain on the bridge in one hour?" Spock said, all but dismissing the line of questioning.**

**Bones sighed, breathing out the urge to strangle the damn guy where he stood. "Yeah, yeah" Bones grumbled, as Spock nodded and exited the room. He knew Spock had to have felt bad about Chekov, he knew Spock was worried about Jim, hell he knew Spock was most likely concerned about future command decisions he might have to make, and who could blame him, after what had happened with Chekov. And that's when it occurred to Bones, and hell, he'd already pissed off the guy-as much as he could be pissed off-he might as well keep at it, because damn it, Spock was going to make it out of this OK, too.**

**"Spock!" Bones managed to catch him just as he was at the door of sickbay.**

**"Yes?"**

**"Is that why you're down here?" Bones asked.**

**"As I've previously stated, Doctor, I'm here to check on the Captain's well being."**

**"Uh-uh," Bones replied, he was resolute to not let the Vulcan off of the hook. "You're here because you've been shaken. You want Jim around to double check you. You feel insecure, Mister Spock. Insecure and concerned, and hell probably a little bit sad, Vulcan or no." Sure, it wasn't a complete picture of what Bones thought was going on with Spock, but it seemed to Bones that Spock's emotional life was probably really complex with lots of different motivations and reasons, and hell, perverted versions of logic explaining to himself how all of this was somehow his fault, and well, Bones was tired, so he figured this was a start. **

**"Is that your medical opinion, Doctor?"**

**"Damn right it is."**

**"Thank you for allocating your analysis. But, unless you intend to employ your...diagnosis...to instigate further action, I will depart sans delay and return to the bridge."**

**And with that, Spock left.**

**And despite feeling majorly insulted, Bones would be damned if he wouldn't bet everything he currently had that he was dead on. If Spock's use of big words even for Spock weren't a clue, his rush to get out of sick bay was. **

**Which was fine. It was more than fine with McCoy if Spock felt that way. He wasn't about to relieve him of duty or declare him medically unfit, or even emotionally compromised. But that damn Vulcan seemed to think that any emotions made him emotionally compromised, and Bones was determined to change that mindset of his.**

**But first, he had to worry about the emotionally admitting one. The reckless, stupid, drunk idiot lying in front of him. Jim would be fine for duty today and possibly tomorrow, and hell he'd make it through till doomsday without an incident, just continuing on with the guilt and melancholy if he had to, but damn it if Bones wasn't going to make the kid slow the hell down and actually talk instead of losing himself in booze and women and danger. Oh, Jim would do that anyways even when he wasn't self flagellating himself for things that weren't his fault, but it was worse when the kid felt guilty or was trying to forget. So, he'd get the kid to talk. Possibly aided by some bourbon. But just a little for Jim. Bones had a bad feeling that however Jim responded, it was going to drive him to drink, and he would need the bourbon more.**

**Bones stood up and lightly kicked the exam table next to him frustratedly. Sometimes he just didn't know which one was worse, emotionally suppressed Spock who wouldn't accept help, or emotionally flamboyant Jim who wouldn't accept help. After giving it a moment of thought, Bones decided it didn't matter, because at the end of the day, they were both morons. **


	3. Working to Death

-1A/n: OK, so after writer's block and then being picky and editing like every other day, I decided to just screw it and post. The next two chapters will be put up this week. Please review, and feel free to leave constructive criticism. And thanks so much to everyone who's already reviewed, story favorited, and author favorited, I would have totally stopped writing this story without your support! Also, the reviews have been really helpful with the comments of what the readers wanted to see. It helped me work out a lot of plot details. Enjoy!

A week and a funeral service later found the crew of the Enterprise either falling apart or running more efficiently than it ever had before, depending on who you were asking.

If you asked Bones-and of course, nobody was-he'd tell you that it was falling apart into super efficiency. The whole damn crew was far too messed up emotionally to actually be able to functionally perform anything other than their damn duties. That was the thing about Starfleet, Bones mused, it's training was so good that you just went on auto pilot no matter what the situation. An entire crew of people dying on the inside, but focusing so much of their energy to their work, that it really didn't matter. Bones took a moment to ponder who had come up with the Emotional Compromise clause, as it seemed to him people seemed to work harder, faster, and better when under emotional duress. He supposed it was mostly for command staff in extreme circumstances. ...Like your planet blowing up and your mother dying. Unfortunately, he couldn't emotionally compromise the whole crew, as much as he wanted to.

Bones himself, however, was different. Oh sure, he went to the Starfleet Academy with all the rest of them, and technically he was Starfleet trained, but at heart, he was still just a country doctor. And as a doctor, while you couldn't let what you felt interfere with your work, your work certainly wasn't a place to re-focus your energy. That almost always made it worse. It was hard to stop focusing on young, dead crew members by re focusing on young, sick ones. So, Bones re focused his energy to pretending his water was brandy while on duty, and pretending he was drinking far more than a shot of brandy when off. And of course, his attentions were highly re focused on a certain Captain and his First Officer.

A sick part of Bones was glad that the two were so messed up. It was what had been keeping him coping thus far.

He was almost thankful for the random late night appearances by various crew members who came in because they felt a little "nauseas" or "tired", "fatigued as of late", etc... all just excuses to come in and talk to him.

Bones found this slightly strange, but he figured that when the entire bridge crew was affected, and no one wanted to be the first to admit that they were upset, because damn it, they'd been trained to deal with this, they'd come to him, the place they'd been trained to go.

Bones felt that he should be slightly worried at the revenge that was in absolutely Everyone's voice. But he wasn't. Because he felt the same way. He wanted revenge on that damn medical officer that had come aboard HIS ship with HIS friends. He wanted to take that guy by the hair, and shove the damn Hippocratic oath down his throat. Fucking greedy doctor. Bones had meet people like that in med school. They usually ended up in research, never actually practicing medicine on actual people. But somehow, this guy decided doctoring was for him. And decided that having the glory of the healing powers of that damned flower on that damned planet was more important than the lives of the people it could actually save.

The worst part was that he hadn't even bothered to help Chekov, to even check on him after he'd beamed aboard and shot the kid who was just trying to stop him on Spock's orders.

And he dared call himself a doctor. Chekov could've been saved. Would've been saved if he'd been on board or the blasted doctor had actually bothered to do his fucking job.

So, yeah, Bones wanted revenge. Wanted to lecture the guy into a black hole, to make him feel every inch of guilt for his actions plus every inch of pain this ship was feeling, until he finally developed a conscious.

And then, Bones wanted to kill him, assuring him that he would never attain absolution, and that he was going to suffer for a very long, painful eternity in hell.

But revenge was not going to be had by anyone but Lt. Wilkins, the security officer who managed to catch up with the bastard after he'd shot Chekov and made his way to the bridge.

And boy, that wasn't making Wilkins feel any better. He'd been in here to see McCoy about every day with some new, made up complaint to talk about how guilty he felt that he just hadn't gotten there on time, how he felt he took away the one way anyone had of coping. But when he'd seen Chekov's body, he'd just gotten so angry, all he could think about was killing the guy.

There had barely even been a body of the medical officer for Bones to exam, the phaser setting had been so high.

And Wilkins even felt guilty for that, too. He'd flat out killed a man when it wasn't necessary.

That wasn't in Jim's report, or anyone else's, Bones had noticed. It had been changed that Wilkins was under immediate threat by the "Doctor", and was forced to use all force available to him.

Because, honestly, good riddance, the man had deserved that shot, and so much more. Bones had told Wilkins to not waste a second of his time feeling sorry that the lousy excuse for a human was dead.

But it still didn't temper the fact that every single bridge crew member wanted revenge for Chekov personally, and had no way of getting it.

Bones was a little worried, because the man had been federation, and some people where whispering about possible conspiracy theories from the inside, and some idiot might decide revenge was needed there and ruin their career. And Bones was determined not to let that one happen.

Especially to a one Hikaru Sulu.

He was the one who was looking for anyone else to blame. He had been Chekov's closest friend, and from what Bones could tell, the feeling had been mutual.

To add salt to the wound of Chekov's death, is that Bones hadn't even managed to get back on the ship in time to clear Chekov's body from the hall. So, many people had seen it. And one of those people was Sulu. He'd been the one to close the kid's eyes, after futilely checking for a pulse, since the whole bridge crew had practically heard him die over the com. And that's when Chekov had muttered those damned last words of his, over that com, as he lay dying.

Bones sighed, it would have been more almost been more merciful if the phaser had been set to kill. But it'd been set to stun, and well, you know what the say, healers can make the best killers. He'd managed to hit Chekov in just the right spot that the kid had bled to death in a matter of minutes. But, it left behind a more gruesome looking body for all to see, pooled in blood- kill shot would have made it appear as though Chekov were merely sleeping-and it allowed Chekov those last damned words that were driving everyone crazy. Kid was optimistic and enthusiastic and caring and affectionate to the very end. And that really wasn't the comfort it should be.

He wished it was, because man, Sulu wanted revenge. More than anyone else. Bones had never imagined the normally good natured pilot could be so angry. He was still nice enough on the bridge, it appeared, but when he wasn't on duty, he was in the rec room fencing.

And that's how Sulu got to talk to Bones. Or rather, how Bones got to talk to Sulu. He worked himself so hard, that he'd been in Sickbay either every day or every other day with some form of injury.

Usually, it was exhaustion, because he'd fainted during his work out, and some crew member would find him passed out on the floor and bring him in to sickbay.

At first, when he came to, Bones just gave him a lecture about not working himself to death. And Sulu usually answered with a heart-breaking mumbled, "Why not?" before giving the most forced smile Bones had ever seen (and that was saying a lot, Jim Kirk was his best friend) before assuring Bones that he'd be "more careful."

But the fourth day it happened, Bones finally decided to bring up Chekov to Sulu.

Sulu had ignored him at first, just asking when he was clear to return to duty.

But on the sixth day, he'd actually talked back. And what he had to say was terrifying. And not so much because of what he had to say, but how much Bones found himself agreeing. And it was scary when he found himself agreeing so much with Sulu that it almost made him understand Nero. Almost.

Bones never had thought he'd see the day when that was possible, and he'd never wanted to.

But Chekov had just been one of those people who made everyone's life a little better, everyone's day a little brighter. He had been so full of optimism and enthusiasm.

And to have that just snuffed out. It didn't seem right. And it didn't seem like a universe that allowed something like that to happen should be allowed to exist and just carry on its merry way.

And, everyone on the bridge seemed to be suffering from this. Either guilt, or a thirst for revenge, or both. And they'd poured all of that into their work. Because to act on either of those feelings went against their training. So there was nothing to do but do as they'd been trained.

And it was killing all of them.

And at least some of them had bothered to talk. But, Jim or Spock hadn't been by once since Chekov's death to talk. Spock would never admit to needing to talk. And Jim...

And damnit, they needed to talk or something. Bones wasn't blind, He'd noticed the hesitancy in his Captain and First Officer. Kirk always changed the landing party order at least three times before finally selecting Himself, Bones, and Spock, and one specialist who was absolutely positively needed, and leaving Scotty in command with the entire security team on high alert and the second most senior medical officer on the ready.

And Spock. Spock was even more "logical" than before. Not that it was a revelation or anything, but Bones was reaffirmed now more than ever that "logical" was just Vulcan code for "This way if what I do yields bad results, I'm still not wrong." In other words, it was one big societal defense mechanism that guarded against failure. Every single action or command Spock made was annoyingly logical. Each decision made with the utmost precision and deliberation. There wasn't a variable Spock didn't take into account, and only the safest paths, the paths with the least amount of danger were recommended.

And Jim listened.

Bones was pretty sure that that was what bothered him more. Spock was dragging Jim down with him, or rather, Jim was holding on to a falling Spock for support.

Oh sure, Jim knew Bones was always there for him. And hell, Spock probably knew he was even there for him, regardless of whether either he or the green-blooded hob goblin would admit it. And sure, both of them actually frequently relied on him simply being there to endure. Whether or not either of them knew it. What mattered was Bones knew it, and it was a duty he took very seriously.

But, they relied on each other to run _The Enterprise_. Jim relied on Spock to pull him back from making foolish decisions, and Spock relied on Jim to make foolish decisions that somehow always resulted in success. Jim relied on Spock's logic, and Spock relied on Jim's intuition.

You would think that with the tragedy of Chekov's death, that they would only rely on that system more strongly. You would think that if it wasn't for the fact that Chekov's death was the first time that system had failed.

So, Spock relied on his oldest fall-back, logic, and Jim relied on Spock.

Because for Jim, his intuition was only as good as the people around him that could prevent, protect, or put back together whatever aftermath or consequences his decisions led to.

Jim jumped out of a burning building assuming that there would be someone with a trampoline waiting for him.

But this time there wasn't.

And it had cost Chekov his life.

And Jim was now just realizing the flaw in his system. And while he still had faith in those around him, he had lost faith in himself. And while Spock was good enough, logic is a very reliable system, and it hadn't lead to any tragedies yet. And while only three missions had occurred in the last week, all of which were fairly low key, Bones knew that this would eventually lead to all of their deaths at the worst, and the Enterprise being just another average starship at best.

Because as much as Bones yelled at Jim for all of his reckless, crazy stunts, he was exactly the kind of Captain this ship needed, the kind of Captain Starfleet needed, the kind of Captain that separated a good starship from a great starship, the kind of Captain that turned loss into a fighting chance.

And that Captain was disappearing, because this time the loss had been too huge, too personal, and Jim was scared of it happening again.

And Bones had resolved to not let this happen.

He had to stop waiting for the perfect idea to help Jim. And he really had to stop waiting for Jim to come to him. He had to take action. And now.


	4. Regrouping

-1A/n: YIKES! So, I know I told you guys this would get posted earlier, and I really, really meant that! But then I got caught up with weddings and moving! Sooo….sorry. Here's the new chapter, as promised! It hasn't been beta'd, so the grammar is a little weird. And to be honest, I am fixing the grammar of the last chapter, I had a reviewer point out it was problematic. Also, I'm still not sure how I feel about the pacing of all this… but, I just wanted to get this up. So, you guys may get new editions of these chapters. But, here's the fourth chapter, and I'll have the fifth one up ASAP. And then I have to write new chapters….which will hopefully be good.

But yeah, here ya'all go, and thanks again soo much for all of your support! Please read and review! Constructive criticism is so very, very welcome.

Chapter 4

Five days later, Bones sat in his room regrouping. Bones' plan had been a simple plan. Simply pry the kid with brandy until he talked.

OK, so it was a terrible plan. And had failed miserably. But damn it if he had the slightest clue how to deal with this. He was a doctor, damnit, and even if he did have a specialty in psychology, it wasn't a specialty in therapy. He was at a complete loss.

Bones tapped his hand against his desk in his office in Sickbay. He had no idea how to get Jim over this. At a loss for any information, Bones went back over what he did know.

He knew that he needed Jim to talk. ... Openly. ... About his feelings.

Sober.

Damnit. There was the rub. Jim was one stubborn asshole and could be as bad as Spock about expressing feelings and emotions of vulnerability when he wanted to. Jim got in these stubborn moods when didn't want to admit that he was not invincible, and that he was just human who could not in fact control the entirety of the universe.

And of course, there was the simple problem that Bones wasn't so sure simple conversation would just make this go away. It felt like fixing a broken bone with a kiss and a band-aid.

Bones slammed his hand against the desk and stood with frustration.

This was the damned problem with Starfleet. You lose friends and loved ones, and the damned bureaucrats wouldn't let them properly deal with the grieving process. These kids needed to grieve. But Starfleet wouldn't give them shore leave, no matter how often Bones had called Pike asking him to demand they allow it or no matter how many times he called as high up as he had access to saying that as CMO he strongly recommended it.

They always turned him down with the same bullshit of, "While this event is most tragic and unfortunate, it is relatively standard on Starships and that Starfleet was confident that the training all personnel receive regarding such a situation at the academy was sufficient." Following it up by giving Bones an address he could send any suggestions regarding additions to the Starfleet Academy Curriculum that he felt necessary for consideration .

Damnit, what did Starfleet think this was, some simulation, an exercise? This was real, and the majority of this crew was fresh out of the Academy. They were just kids, one of their own had just died, and the Captain and First Officer were doubting themselves.

They needed shore leave.

But, since that avenue had been denied, Bones had decided other more personal measures needed to be taken.

He had to talk to Jim. And get Spock to stop being so rigid. Bones sighed at the logic games he'd probably have to play to talk sense into Spock. He was hoping maybe he could fix Jim, and then Jim would deal with Spock for him.

Which brought him back to his initial problem.

Jim.

How in the hell...

Bones ran the problem over in his mind again. OK, so what if he wasn't a therapist, he was a psychologist after all, he should be able to figure something out.

After all, the root of all this wasn't so complex, it was relatively simple.

Jim had organized the landing party.

Jim had not included Chekov from the landing party, despite the kid asking permission otherwise.

Chekov died on the Enterprise.

And Jim blamed himself because he hadn't acquiesced and let the kid in the damn landing party.

...

Brandy. Bones needed Brandy.

But this time for himself.

Jim Kirk was a problem that the Universe may never have an answer for.


	5. Force

-1OK, so you guys get a double post since I promised to post sooner and didn't! Again, this really isn't as edited as I would like, but I hope you guys enjoy all the same! Chapter 6.…isn't written yet. So, I will hopefully have that up by next week. But yeah, thanks you guys! Enjoy the chapter!

And Review please!!!! Thanks for all of you who have, and everyone who's favorited, etc… Cookies and Cupcakes for all!

On with the story!

Chapter 5

3 weeks after the death of Ensign Chekov and four failed attempts to complete

Project: Get Jim to Deal, Damn It, Bones woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of his own heavy breathing.

Just a nightmare. Another nightmare. A nightmare about the death of the Enterprise because Jim Didn't do something reckless to save them all.

This was disturbing to him on several levels.

One, because it was at least the fifteenth time in the last three weeks that Bones had had this nightmare.

Two, because it involved the graphic and vivid death of all the Bridge members.

Three, because it involved crew member after crew member pouring into an already overcrowded sickbay faster than Bones could treat them or even declare them dead.

Four, because it also involved Jim dying as he attempted to save him, but the wounds were far to extensive.

And Five because it was all because Jim DIDN'T do something reckless.

And really, Bones was sick of this.

He really, really was. There were only so many times he could handle the irony of it all.

He glanced at the clock, 3 AM. Bones decided enough was enough. Damn it all, he was talking to Jim right now. He was going to try the one thing he hadn't yet. Force. Jim was going to deal with Chekov's death if he had to duct tape him to his bed. Without as much as changing out of his pajamas, he walked directly to Jim's quarters, and pressed the call button.

Silence.

He heard some shuffling, and then silence.

He pressed it again.

....silence...followed by shuffling......

Jim wasn't going to answer.

Bullshit. "Sorry, kid, but you're going to discuss your issues with your kindly family doctor", Bones thought.

So Bones put in his medical override and walked in to find a very awake, very exhausted James T. Kirk.


End file.
